


(we're doing this) for hershel

by welcometogressenheller (nextyeardarling)



Series: (pl) no angst canon [1]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Azran Legacy Spoilers, Comedy, Desmond experiences friendship, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Gen, Gressenheller University, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, LGBTQ Themes, Miracle Mask but wholesome, No Angst, To lovers?, chilche wattpad romcom tropes but i don't care i'm having fun, everybody say thank you layton brainrot group, except a tiny bit, hershel layton is bad at feelings, is this platonic or romantic? you decide, or at the very least: and attempt at it, randall ascot is a bicon, sorry Randall's dad is still shite
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:14:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24918172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nextyeardarling/pseuds/welcometogressenheller
Summary: Hershel has a crush. Desmond and Randall have a plan.(no angst canon shenanigans)
Relationships: Claire/Hershel Layton, Hershel Layton & Desmond Sycamore, Randall Ascot & Desmond Sycamore, Randall Ascot & Hershel Layton
Series: (pl) no angst canon [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1803220
Comments: 23
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

„Listen, Ascot - Randall.“

Desmond sighed, as hit with the upsetting realization that _they were actually doing this._

Outside the café, students were roaming around, enjoying the first glimpses of warm spring air. They were chatting over the latest dull lecture, stretching, stiff from being squeezed between tables in the crowded lecture halls. A sense of liveliness unfolded at the Gressenheller University campus on sunny days like these.  
Desmond, however, would rather spend his day hidden behind the library’s tall bookshelves than socializing with a second semester student - and not just any second-semester student, that was.

“I’ll have you know we are doing this for Hershel. You know that, yes? It’s very important to me that you know that.”

“Hmm? Yes, sure thing.”

It was painfully obvious Randall had paid more attention to Desmond speaking rather than to what he was saying.

The latter cleared his throat, reassuringly reminding himself of his very own words. _For Hershel…_

“Anyway, let’s get started, shall we? I have put some thought into our plan and the appropriate means to carry it out as efficiently as possible.” Desmond spread out a set of blueprints on the tiny café table, forcing Randall to move his chocolate milk. Far too big for an accessory table like this one, the pages hung from the tabletop on each side.

“My idea process has lead me to develop this beneficial tool.” He evidently struggled to guide Randall - silently sipping on his drink - through the messy notes laid out between the two of them. “See, I strongly believe it will come in handy if we - now let me turn this around so you can read it - with a device akin to this, our mission will be - I noted that bit down somewhere, I am sure of it - see, it’s fairly complicated to explain to a novice in engineering - like you - but if you would pay attention to this sketch I made - clever, is it not? I also figured we take better in hiding our identities, as I certainly wouldn’t fancy my fellow students catch us doing… what we’re doing. So - I designed these masks to… are you even listening?”

Having finished his drink, Randall set down his glass - right on top of Desmond’s elaborate set of notes. For a moment, he let his eyes scan over the pages, studying the detailed sketches, trying to decipher the sloppy annotations, passionately hand-scribbled in a rush of genius revelations, yet hardly comprehensible for someone not as fond of… gimmick mecha.

That, for one, was a passion they definitely did not share, Randall noted - but to be fair, it wasn’t what brought them here, to begin with.

Desmond Sycamore and Randall Ascot united over two things:

One - being interested in archaeology (specifically the ancient azran civilization), leading them both to study at famous Gressenheller University in London, which was widely known for its brilliant archaeology department.

Two - caring about Hershel Layton. And that especially involved the most recent development in his life - _a crush._

“Eh, I dunno. Isn’t that a bit-“, Randall gestured towards the cluttered table, “-much?”

“I did not expect you of all people to call something _much_ ”, the older student scoffed, judgingly eying Randall’s ever flamboyant demeanour, “Though I have to admit my technological expertise might be hard to follow for the likes of you. Well, I assume you prepared something better, then?”

Surely Hershel’s annoying friend wouldn’t be a match for his genius, however, sadly, he was indispensable for this plot of his. Desmond’s opposite reached into his bag, pulling out a heavy, lengthy device -

“Bi- Binoculars. You have to be kidding, Randall.”

“What? They get the job done! Plus they’re way less complicated than your… whatever that was all about.”

“Yes, and much less _chic_ ”, Desmond stressed, “We will be found out in an instant, walking around Gressenheller with those.” He had a reputation to uphold, in any case. What would people think, spotting Desmond side by side with that exuberant newbie?

“Hey, don’t give up before we even get started! All it takes is a decent hiding spot. Lucky for you I have some valuable experience from hiding puzzles! Speaking of which, that fella’s order over there reminds me…”

“You look like a fool, Randall, put these down this instant. You’re embarrassing me-“

“Ah, is that a hint of blush I spy on your cheeks~?”

“You wish.”

Oh for heaven’s sake, what did he get himself into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hELLO i had a decent thought and wrote this in one go because this tag seriously lacks some wholesome layton content... so naturally, i will supply with some good desmond & randall shenanigans content!  
> no angst canon, in this case, means desmond got adopted by the laytons, too and basically, akbadain didnt happen. desmond left to go study at gressenheller and randall and hershel followed soon after!
> 
> i'm currently writing a different (layton) fic which takes up a lot more effort so this will be just a funky little project that i hope will spark joy for some people :) like the name says, there will be.... probably... no angst in this fic, just some funny headcanons and wholesome interactions.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond consults Randall to discuss his plan.

It all started about a week ago.

Both brothers had been invited over to spend the weekend at their parent’s house - an offer they would never find themselves declining, especially now that both Hershel and Desmond had their own place in London. 

On this particular Saturday evening, they were alone in the Layton’s living room, each curled up in an armchair over a book. Lucille and Roland had left to bed sometime after their family dinner (which had once again proven their visit to be worth it for Lucille’s excellent cooking alone), leaving the brothers to themselves and their favoured writing.

Yet, from the very beginning of their reading session, Desmond noticed something was… off.

They had spent countless nights like this - sometimes both silently invested, sometimes reading to each other, sometimes huddled in one of their beds, sometimes draped over the living room carpet - yet never had Desmond witnessed Hershel behaving as oddly as tonight.

His glance would trail off the pages every so often, staring at the ceiling for minutes to then loudly sigh and resume his lecture - shifting in his seat - get up frequently to fetch more tea from the kitchen - nervously fumbling with the innocent couch pillow.  
His fussed movements caused Desmond to tense up, too. He could tell there was something occupying his mind. It was the curse of a nosy sibling to subsequently have something occupying their mind, too.

This whole time, he had been eying his younger brother over the cover of his novel. Then, finally, Hershel cleared his throat, signalling he gathered the courage to speak.

“Desmond - can I talk to you about something?”

The addressed set down his lecture to give his opposite his full attention.

“Of course, anything. Is there something on your mind?”

Hershel blushed - _he blushed._ Something was going on.

“Well - yes”, Hershel sighed, struggling to find the right words, “Um, how do I… look, you mustn’t tell Ma and Pa - yet, at least - because - who knows, if - “, he took a deep breath, “I-I think I’ve fallen in love, Desmond.”

Oh. _Oh_.  
Now this was starting to make sense - _and_ _get interesting_. 

Having broken the silence for once, Hershel now kept on rambling, all excited.

“She’s a student at Gressenheller, too - Physics major, fourth semester, and - oh if you were to meet her, I am sure you’d understand. She’s brilliant, the cleverest - and when she smiles, I - she’s exceptionally kind, and she has those small freckles all over her nose, and -“  
Again, Hershel stopped to hide his face in his hands, incoherently mumbling.

“Aw, why that’s sweet! So, are you going to ask her out?”  
“Yes - No! Where are you thinking-“  
“Huh? Why not?”

“I- I don’t even know if she feels the same way about me-!”  
“Well, you are supposed to find out by-“  
“That’s preposterous! What if she doesn’t return my feelings towards her? No, the only people to know about this are you and Randall and I intend to keep it this way.”

If his protective big brother instincts hadn’t been as apparent before, they sure did kick in in all their intensity now. And suddenly, Desmond had _a plan_.

* * *

“I still can’t believe this!”, Randall exclaimed as he was sitting down, “My idol is hanging out with me - _you’re_ hanging out with me!”

It hadn’t been hard to get a hold of Randall on Gressenheller campus.  
He was loud, for once, his redhead could easily be spotted even in a jam-full study hall and on top of that, he often stayed overtime after classes to bother the professors with in-depth questions and discussion prompts. An annoying know-it-all, really, and Desmond, being a sixth-semester student and considering pursuing a teaching career himself, found himself relating to the professors with second-hand embarrassment - but at least it made it much less of an inconvenience for Desmond to pull Randall aside after a shared lecture.

On their whole way over to the tiny café near campus coincidentally named _Puzzles_ \- where Desmond frequented because of that one stall in the very back that had a big enough table to host his class books, note pad and a big pot of Darjeeling while simultaneously shielding him from the other customer’s glances - he wouldn’t stop babbling in excitement over being consulted by _top of his class archaeology prodigy_ Desmond Sycamore _himself_.

“Oh, calm down, will you? It’s not like we’ve never interacted before, you’re Hershel’s best friend, after all. This shouldn’t be much of a big deal. Besides - I didn’t consult you to “hang out”. There’s something I need to discuss with you. Something concerning Hershel - I assume you are well aware of the latest news?”

“Latest… news? Hey, you don’t mean…”  
“Yes.” Randall’s face lit up as Desmond answered. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

He simply couldn’t have his brother’s first love come anywhere near breaking his heart.  
That was why there were a couple of things he, as it was his hereditary duty being The Elder Sibling, needed to ensure.  
Firstly: Investigate whether his crush is a perfect match for Hershel. Secondly: If that prerequisite is met, prompt Hershel to make a move on her. And who else would prove helpful for his shenanigans if not Hershel’s roommate and best friend since childhood, Randall Ascot?

“I see how it is. So Hershel told you about his-”, Randall lowered his voice, adding a playful mysterious tone, “ _crush_ , too.”  
“Evidently, he did. Then I trust we are on the same page here.” Desmond cleared his throat. “As you might have gathered, while he is many things, my brother is… not much of a social butterfly. So I trust it’s upon us to guarantee they end up together, happily.”  
“Ohh”, Randall grinned, “That’s _wicked_. I’m in.”

They were interrupted in their mischievous plotting by the arrival of their order - Darjeeling for Desmond, oat milk chai latte for Randall. Desmond eyed this abomination of tea with disgust. Maybe the greatest puzzle of all was how on earth he would stand working with this insufferable pain in the neck.

“So, what’s the plan?”  
“The plan, Ascot”, Desmond started, “Is to gather information on Hershel’s infatuation and ultimately take measures to couple them.”  
“…And since us two are the people closest to him, the information we are given combined with our investigative skill will prove helpful with this task. Oh, that’s just brilliant! Now I can see where you’re going with this!”  
“So you do use that head of yours for thinking sometimes”, Desmond muttered into his cup of tea. Thankfully, Randall was slurping his drink loudly enough for him to overhear his snarky comment.

“I propose we have weekly appointments to share the fruits of our research and discuss follow-up tactics. And of course - no word to Hershel.”  
Randall just smiled widely as a response, deeply intrigued by the thought of Desmond wanting to meet up with him _every week_. Upon further contemplation, _want_ was not how Desmond himself would have liked to put it. But alas - the things one does for their hopelessly amorous little brother…

He just noticed as he was getting up to leave - this was the first time Desmond ever shared his regular table with someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some notes:  
> \- timeline what timeline? randall is an insufferable hipster, even if it's canonically the 50s(-ish).  
> \- don't call me out i actually don't have any clue how university works... especially in other countries  
> \- also: there's no defined story line for no angst canon, but i figured desmond chose his name to protect their identity from targent, even tho they aren't a threat anymore (he doesnt know that. also, i just like his name). i was also thinking akbadain didn't happen so that it makes more sense for randall to just go to university like a normal student, lmao. 
> 
> anyway, that's on that! i hope you enjoyed more desmond and randall coupling service shenanigans, i have some fun stuff planned for them and it will all be pretty lighthearted :) feedback is appreciated too, just talk to me about layton honestly
> 
> thank you to layton brainrot group for the help as always!!  
> see u around!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Randall thinks they should go all in. Desmond disagrees. Disaster ensues.

“Her name is Claire”, Desmond said, his spoon rhythmically clicking against the porcelain as he was stirring his Darjeeling tea. He ruffled through the pages of his notes, assembling all the research he had done over the course of the week.

“Claire Folly. She’s a fourth-semester physics student mentored by Professor Ainstine . As far as her timetable goes, she seems to take a special interest in quantum physics but enrolled in a few mechanics classes, too. On top of that, she works as a lab assistant with the poly dimensional research project recently funded by the Gressenheller physics department. She also got voted into the student parliament programme last year, so I believe that leads us to conclude she’s a responsible and strong-willed woman, and… let’s see… ah yes, she lives in the university dorms and shares a room with one Brenda Benett.” 

Randall sat back in awe as Desmond recounted all of his findings.

“Wow, you’re awfully good with that whole stalking thing.”

“I would refrain from calling it  _ stalking _ ”, Desmond objected, raising his eyebrow at the younger student, “I am a nothing more than a passionate researcher. As should you, being an archaeology student.” 

He gathered his notes and slid them back into his notebook. Although Randall could only catch a glimpse of it, he was quick to notice the state of the book - multiple lose papers sticking out, post-it markings visibly piercing through between the pages and a broken spine. Considering everything he knew of Desmond, this easily was the messiest of his belongings and in a way, very telling. For a moment, he found his glance lingering on Desmond’s fingers as he skimmed through the pages.

As Desmond noticed him staring, he hastily slid the notebook back into his bag.

“Anyway, what were  _ you  _ able to gather this week?”

“Oh yeah, that.” Randall leaned back, earning a dismissive look from Desmond for balancing the chair on its back legs, “I just asked some fellow student about her and--…”

He almost lost his balance when Desmond suddenly snapped at him.

“You-- You asked other students about her?”

“Y-Yeah? I mean isn’t that the easiest way to get to know someone, by talking to people who know them?” 

Desmond adjusted his glasses in disarray. “You cannot just… talk to people like that.”

“Well, my condolences about you being an introvert but I, for my part,  _ can _ talk to people like that.”

“E-Excuse me-- I  _ can _ talk to people, too, of course. It is just that behaviour akin to yours will undoubtedly draw attention to us. And we do not, under any circumstances, want that, no?”

Randall crossed his arms and took a sip from his Frappuccino. Slowly, Desmond regained his calm but Randall was there to make sure it wouldn’t last long.

“I think we should go all in.”

“Whatever you mean by that.” 

“All in as in  _ all in _ ! We should spy on her! It’s more fun than looking through course lists or whatever. And there’s only so much you can uncover from those, anyway!”

Desmond didn’t reply for a hot second and merely eyed Randall, half disappointed, half not surprised.    
“You’re unbelievable, Randall. Did you even care to listen to what I just said literal seconds ago--“

“Yes”, Randall stresses, “And to that, I say no risk, no glory.”

It seemed as though it was a habit for Desmond to fidget with his glasses when he was irritated. 

“I don’t think you quite understand, Randall”, he started in overly dramatic fashion, “If we are found out in any shape or form, our plan is deemed to fail. Even further, if it comes to light that we have been  _ stalking  _ Claire on Hershel’s behalf that will most likely ruin his already established relationship with her and  _ that _ is the exact opposite of what we are aiming for - you haven’t forgotten that, have you? And apart from that, I will  _ not  _ spy on my little brother. That is an invasion of privacy which I do  _ not _ tolerate in the  _ slightest _ . There are things I would prefer not to have any knowledge of-- oh cut out that smile, will you? Now, what is it?”

While he was going off with his moral lecture, a wide grin had been growing on Randall’s face. His eyes trailed off Desmond to investigate something that must be unfolding behind his back. 

“What are you staring at?”

Randall laughed skittishly. “They’re here!”

_ Oh no.  _

“W-Wh… They- You don’t mean….?” 

He nodded with emphasis. “Yes, they - Hershel and Claire. They just sat down at a table together.” 

Internally, Desmond cursed his luck. Of course, his brother must show up to cross his plans, and of course, he must come to this very café on the very day that he gave up his usual seat for Randall, exposing himself to the curious looks of any other customer. If Hershel would see him here, then… but he had to risk a short look, just to make sure-

Desmond turned his head, leaning over the back of his chair to let his eyes wander through the crowded café. Almost every table was occupied - naturally, the students on Gressenheller campus craved a comforting cup of tea on a rainy day like this one. He scanned for his brother’s silhouette among the students - and promptly locked eyes with Claire Folly.

In horror, he immediately snapped back to face Randall but it was no use - he could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks already as he buried his face in his hands. Randall, on the other hand, wouldn’t stop laughing.

“Oh  _ fuck _ \- I mean - stop laughing, for heaven’s sake! You are making them notice us! She saw me - I think she saw me - oh, this is horrible, just horrible, we’re doomed - this is horrible and we’re doomed.”

“You can cut the dramatic monologue”, Randall was able to burst out as he was catching his breath between laughter, “Neither of them is looking in our direction, we’ll be fine! Jeez, your face is hilarious--“ “Cut it out. This is highly degrading--“ “Pfffft--”

From the way they were sitting, Randall was able to overlook the café’s interior while simultaneously shielded by the setup of their booth. Given that Claire was seated facing in their direction, Hershel then must have his back turned at their table - much to their luck, as he would have easily noticed them. Randall was shooting them looks again and a sense of morbid curiosity arose in Desmond that he couldn’t quite shake.

“So? What are they doing now?”, he asked as casually as possible. Turns out it didn’t come out as anything close to casual in the least. Randall answered with a mischievous grin.

“Which one of us had been preaching about crossing boundaries minutes ago, hm?”

“Yes, well- they are here now, so I figured- It’s not an invasion of privacy if we are both in a public space perchance…!”

“That’s an interesting way of thinking, I’ll give you that.”

“I did not come here to discuss my morals with you.”

“And yet, here you are.”

“Would you mind directing the focus back to our mission?”

“Sorry, didn’t quite hear you.”

Randall was tough - and seemingly, he was also keen on humiliating Desmond even further. He sighed. “Fine-- please?”

Apparently taken aback by Desmond actually giving in to his teasing, Randall couldn’t think of a clever comeback and just blurted out the mission report. 

“They’re ordering now. Aw, Hershel seems so nervous! I think he’s blushing - oh, he’s  _ definitely  _ blushing, I can tell from a distance. Aw, Hersh is such a dork. Now the waitress is leaving and they have resumed talking - Claire is smiling the whole time, that’s cute - she looks comfortable with him. Now Hershel’s telling her something and she’s nodding softly while he does. Oh, he made her laugh now, way to go, Hersh! You should see this, they’re too adorable!” 

Part of him… indeed wanted to see this - to turn around and get an impression of their interactions for himself. Come to think of it, there truly  _ was  _ something to it - investigating the way they behave around each other would provide a great deal of insight into where their relationship was heading -- right? 

“Actually, you know what, Randall”, Desmond mumbled, “We might want to go all in.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here I am to spice up the tag with some nice desmond/randall content!  
> writing this is a lot of fun and comes off so easily - maybe I should like. stop having high expectations for my other wips too..... hmmmmm... no, no I don't think so. 
> 
> anyway, I hope you enjoyed and you'll all have a great next week! feel free to comment I live off affection :-)  
> thank you layton brain rot group for the shared brain cell power ♥


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hershel meets up with Claire after class - of course, Randall and Desmond can't miss out on that.

Randall met him outside the library.

It was hard for Desmond to ignore him considering he was sprinting directly towards him over the lawn on campus and only came to a halt about an arm’s length away from to him.

Only then, Desmond turned his head at him, smiling.

“Randall, good to see you. Haven’t they told the first semesters running around campus is-…”

He was instantly cut off by Randall who was still trying to recover from his sprint, bent over with his hands on his knees.

“No time for jokes”, he breathed out, panting, “Also - I’m a second-semester student so you might want to reconsider. Anyway, it’s urgent.”

For Desmond, there wasn’t anything imaginable that could be even remotely as urgent as the pile of books he had freshly gathered from the library, sitting in his bag and aching to be read once he was back at his flat - and alone after a busy day of class, _finally_.

Slowly able to catch his breath, Randall straightened up and inhaled dramatically.

“Hershel is going to meet up with Claire after class. Which is -- now.”

 _Ah yes_. There wasn’t anything except for his younger brother’s love life, of course.

Desmond smirked. “I see, I see. So I take it this is our chance to strike?”

“That’s what I was thinking too, yes.” As usual, Randall didn’t try to hide his enthusiasm. The opposite was the case, in fact - he was almost vibrating with energy, beaming from one ear to the other. And then there was Desmond - exhausted from classwork, running too low on sleep and possibly a bit too high on caffeine with his back aching to sink into his couch accompanied by a nice book.

Standing outside the library with him, he recalled something Hershel had mentioned when they were still living in Stansbury - about how hard it was to say no to Randall. Right now, he might have come to understand what he meant back then - Desmond truly couldn’t claim Randall’s adventurous spirit _wasn’t_ contagious.

Still, having decided to go _all in_ , they had to be extra careful, Desmond reminded himself.

“Fine, then we should make an effort to locate them. But we need to ensure Hershel will not see the two of us together. Naturally, he will question why we interact--“

“What makes you think I would question that?”

Both students turned around in horror to be met with an approaching Hershel Layton. He greeted them with a warm smile as they shot each other a short, yet very telling look. _How much had he heard?_

“Hersh, hey! I didn’t even hear you closing in, haha…”, Randall joked clumsily, trying to direct the conversation into safer territory, “You’re so sly!”

“Haha, oh well. Sorry, it wasn’t my intention to scare you two”, Hershel mumbled, “I was not aware you were friends with Randall, Desmond.”

“Oh, I can assure you that I am not”, Desmond replied instantly, avoiding both their glances and really missing his couch right now, “We’re just, ah…”

Though subtle as ever, it was obvious Hershel wasn’t buying their unusual behaviour. Desmond once again cursed his brother for his puzzle-solving skill that has always been getting in the way of keeping secrets from him ever since they were little.

“He’s helping me out with my essay for geology class! Right, Desmond?” Randall interjected. _Smooth safe_. Desmond side-eyed him. “Right. This is a solely business arrangement.”

“Why, it is very kind of you to help my friend out. I am pleased to see you get along.”

For a moment, there was an awkward silence.

Randall was the first one to break it. “Anyway, Hersh - don’t you have some place to be right now? Something more romantic, perhaps?”

Hershel blushed immediately. It was no use trying to hide his rosy cheeks. “Claire and I decided to meet in front of the main entrance in five minutes. I figured I could briefly return these books in the meantime… Hey!” Randall promptly snatched them from him.

“Leave that to me! You, my dear friend, have a date now. No time for books!”

“Look who’s talking…” Hershel raised an eyebrow, “You’ve hardly ever chosen Angela over an archaeology textbook.”

“Yes, but that was _very_ different”, Randall marked. Hershel decided not to argue with that. Desmond wanted to go home already.

“It appears to me”, the redhead continued teasingly, an elbow placed on Hershel’s shoulder, “Our good friend Hershel here is in dire need of some relationship advice seeing that he considered keeping a lady waiting for the sake of returning some books…”

“I frankly don’t think I am”, Hershel sighed, but since that wasn’t what he wanted to hear, Randall was eager to brush over his interruption.

“Remember, you can always give her a puzzle to impress her! Feel free to utilize some of mine, of course. You know how I told you Ange said it’s hot when guys give you puzzles--“

“I would rather check back with Angela personally regarding that matter”, Desmond commented, no longer able to tolerate Randall’s nonsense in silence.

Randall pouted. “It’s true! It’s attractive when guys show off how clever they are.”

“I can see why you would like to think that.”

“Hey, come on! Just give her a puzzle, Hersh, it’ll make you look smart!”

“Or, you could always not do that”, Desmond insisted, “Perhaps go for a joke instead. Making your significant other laugh is an excellent way to build up a close personal connection.”

“Well, you’re not wrong, Des”, Hershel snickered, “Though I hardly believe your jokes would be of any use for that.”

“ _Excuse me_ , what was that?“

Hershel swiftly glossed over the deep personal offence he had just caused and smiled. “I appreciate your concern but I doubt I will be in need of much advice. I can handle this just fine on my own.”

As if by a sense of chance irony, it was right when he proudly stated his optimism that Claire appeared in front of the main university building, visibly searching for someone on campus grounds.

The young gentleman was quick to turn as red as his waistcoat at the sight of his crush.

Next to him, two people chuckled.

“No, you absolutely cannot”, Desmond noted.

“No, I absolutely cannot”, Hershel panicked.

“Now go and charm her, Romeo!” Randall more-or-less gently pushed him towards the entrance, to which Hershel only protested so much before eventually gathering all his bravery to walk over to meet Claire.

The wide smile on her face as he greeted her was visible even from afar. Desmond and Randall stood back and watched for a while as the couple was heading back into the university building.

“We better get a move on as well”, Desmond reminded them of their mission.

Of course, Hershel would react humble as ever to any offering of help - yet it was painfully apparent he needed some guidance for all things romance. So it seemed the two of them had to take matters into their own hands. There certainly was no way around it - it was their fate as the Big Brother and Best Buddy to inherit the foretold role of the nosy bastard and part-time Armor.

Together, they made their way up to the entranceway of the university building, passing countless students walking in the opposite direction. With disapproval, Desmond noticed the heavy binoculars sticking out of Randall’s bag.

“I wonder what they are up to, roaming through the halls after class”, he thought out loud, “Would it not be significantly more comfortable to head anywhere else for a date?”

“To be fair, both of them would probably argue that _it’s not a date_ \- and would you look at what we both are doing”, he added under his breath and hastily continued his rambles before Desmond had a chance to notice, “Though I remember Hershel telling me there was something Claire wanted to show him…”

“Hm, I see. We are most likely to find them near the physics classrooms, then. They are located at…”

“The second floor, I know”, Randall intervened, already sprinting towards the staircase while Desmond picked up his pace to keep up with him, “I don’t run around campus with my eyes closed, you know- ah!”

A loud wooden noise echoed through the hall as Randall missed a step. Almost as if in slow motion, Desmond turned around to see him struggle to get a grip of the railing, lose his balance and threaten to fall back down the stairs while his face widened in dreadful surprise --

At the last second, Desmond managed to grab Randall’s hand and pull him back up to regain his balance. Thus, a tragedy was evaded.

“Sometimes I believe you want to get in trouble”, Desmond sighed, his heart still beating from the unexpected adrenaline rush.

“T-Thanks”, Randall managed to breathe out, still trying to figure out the exact reason why his pulse was racing this fast. Desmond let go of his hand.

“Don’t mention it. Now come, let us get back to work.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whoops this is turning into a rom-com by accident??   
> don't worry tho, I really suck at writing romance so it's pretty much up to you whether you want to interpret Randall and Desmond's relationship as platonic or romantic. I intended it to be platonic but I don't mind either tho so go wild!   
> also obviously stalking your friend is kinda weird sdhjsdhj but I think it's funny to think that (mm spoilers) Randall and Desmond canonically do a lot of morally questionable shenanigans together so. it's oddly fitting. and having loved ones with crushes myself, I really relate to the "I have to know everything I need to make sure they're happy" thing, haha. 
> 
> writing this is so much fun and closer to my usual writing style which is pretty silly and filled with irony,, I haven't forgotten about my other wips dont worry sjdjsdjs I'm getting there! desmond brain rot gives me the strength to write on... 
> 
> thank you for reading, I'm glad you guys enjoy!! feedback is appreciated of course! have a nice week everyone :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Desmond takes further measures — and ends up in a dire situation.

Initially, he didn’t even notice Randall approaching the covert booth. It was only when the chair legs loudly scratched across the café’s parquet that Desmond looked up from his class work. 

“Ah. Is it so late already?” “Half past three.” Randall answered as he sat down, with way too much force for such a dainty chair. Though this time, Desmond couldn’t blame him, really. He himself hadn’t behaved much differently when he had entered the café a few hours - had he really been sitting here for so long? - ago. The semester was slowly picking up its pace, with more and more assignments accumulating with exam preparations, research papers and presentations closing in. That didn’t stop him raising an eyebrow at his fellow student, who had just finished ordering another one of those fancy drinks on the menu Desmond usually ignored, nonetheless. 

“That’s not a nice way to greet your partner in crime, you know.” Randall muttered, playfully offended. Or was it playful? It was so hard to tell with him, Desmond thought. Not that he was the best at picking up social clues, anyway… 

He just sighed as a reply. Even though the workload of his enclosing diploma threatened to occupy his mind fully, there was still something he would always make space for - quite literally. 

Hastily, Desmond tried his best to gather up all the loose pages of notes, transcripts and half opened books that cluttered the tiny café table. It took some time and ruffling through pages to organize them into a convenient bundle that found its way back into his already overfilled bag. In return, he pulled out a heavy leather bound notebook with a broken back and multiple post-its sticking out at the top. 

“Alright, let us discuss our findings from the other day.” Desmond skimmed through the pages, looking to find his most recent notes on their investigation that revolved around his younger brother’s crush. While he was searching, he briefly stumbled across his related notes from a few weeks ago, back when Hershel first told him about his sweetheart Claire. A lot had happened in a time span that short, both in Desmond’s academic and social life. If anything, he wouldn’t have expected Randall Ascot, his brother’s best friend, of all people, to be sitting across from him in his favourite booth to revise their research regarding said brother’s love life. 

Randall’s slurping on whatever drink it was this time had become familiar company. Lost in thought, Desmond took a sip from his own tea to refocus. 

“So - we met Hershel at the library. He had an appointment with Claire after class.” “That he almost missed,” Randall interrupted in important fashion, “Because of a couple books. It’s a real bummer to get boys to engage in romance if all they care about is books.” He frowned at no one in particular. 

“Well, er… yes,” Desmond continued, irritated, “In any case, he met up with her on time and she took him to the physics classrooms. Since we took it upon ourselves to follow them, we were able to witness that what she showed him there seemed to be some blueprints relating to her work as a lab assistant. Although I wasn’t able to clearly make out what they could be referring to… not from our poor position, at least.” He quickly added something to the frantic notes across the page. 

“Hey, it was better than nothing. Those binoculars of mine truly came in handy,” Randall marked. He crossed his arms and leaned in over the table. “And even so, I hardly think those sketches are of any relevance for our plan. At least we could make out what they were referring to.” 

Desmond nodded slowly, examining his past scribbles. Whilst it most definitely seemed as though each of the two enjoyed the respective other’s company and actively took effort to maintain a somewhat frequent meeting-schedule, they had not been seen engaging in any… displays of romantic affection. Not by Randall and him, at least. Not yet, at least. Whether he indeed wanted to see that was a whole different question whose answer was thankfully delayed by Randall interrupting his thought process. 

“What did you write “ _ Randall is a clumsy twerp _ ” for?” He didn’t look up from Desmond’s notebook. Desmond immediately tried to shield his view by covering the pages with his sleeve. He didn’t like people sticking their noses into his notes - or life, to be exact. 

“Wait - you can read my handwriting?” For a moment, Desmond was too impressed to keep eying his opponent with the best death stare he could muster. This was also an excellent point to make to cause a distraction from his burning cheeks. 

Randall, in contrast, looked at him with a disappointed stare. “Of course I can. I’ve spent my youth studying all your notes I could get my hands on back at the Layton’s place. I love your work, and not by chance, that is. I thought you knew.” 

“I- I must admit I was not conscious of that, no.” Desmond muttered, now hopelessly flustered. In an attempt to regain his dignity, he adjusted his glasses and started flicking through the brimmed pages again, desperately looking for an opportunity to change topics and put an end to the heavy silence that had been dreading with every passing second. 

After some awkward quiet moments that felt like an eternity, he finally found what he was searching for. 

“Ahem. I have come to make another important deduction. I’m positive you will like this, Randall.” Desmond cleared his throat. He could still feel the flashing redness on his face. 

“Oh?” His self-proclaimed partner in crime leaned back in surprise. “What is it?” 

“Well,“ Desmond fished two thin pieces of paper from his notebook, “I‘m pleased to tell you I was able to obtain Claire Folley’s timetable. Additionally, as Hershel’s older brother, it’s child’s play to get my hands on his schedule.” 

Randall’s face lit up as he spoke. “I see...” 

“This will facilitate our match-making shenanigans by a whole lot”, he continued, “Now, we can locate the times they are both available and arrange for them to make full use of those free slots. That also includes,” he shot Randall a concerning glance, “Limiting our interactions with Hershel according to said timetable.” 

“We’re calling it matchmaking now?” Randall smirked. 

“For... the lack of a better term, yes.” 

“Mhm, I see. You might want to add my weekly timetable to the list.” When he noticed the implications of that statement, Randall quickly added: “Solely for the purpose of scheduling our meetings, of course.” 

“Yes,” Desmond agreed, “Of course.” 

...

Having discussed all their findings, both matchmakers headed back to Gressenheller Campus. Randall wanted to meet Hershel after class, whilst Desmond desperately ached for some time in the library. 

Halfway across the fields beneath the main building, they could spot Hershel walking towards them. They stopped on their tracks and watched as he approached, softly panting. Desmond noticed he was carrying a unproportionally large sports bag that he soon identified as his fencing gear. 

He was a fencer, himself, though he regarded it more as a hobby. Much different to Randall and Hershel, who had been participating in yearly competitions ever since they started their classes back in Stansbury middle school and recently joined the university’s fencing team. 

“Sorry for the delay,” Hershel greeted them, “I was talking to Claire. However,” he noticed his best friend’s judging stare that laid on him, “I’m ready for our match now.”

Randall grinned widely. “I sure hope you are. Though I doubt you’re ready to face off against the Great Randall Ascot.” 

“Oh?” Hershel shot a mischievous smile back at his best friend, “We will see that later, I suppose.” 

“Hold on a second.” Desmond had been lost in thought for the past seconds. “Today is Wednesday.” 

“That is correct,” Hershel answered. 

“And you were just talking to Claire.” 

“Indeed. I had to cut it short so she would let me go—“

“Good grief”, Desmond exclaimed. Much to the two friends’ surprise, he now turned to Randall.

“Today is Wednesday,” he repeated, “What did we just discuss about Wednesday afternoons?” 

“What did you discuss?” Hershel’s confusion didn’t fade. To the contrary, the puzzling look on his face proved he was growing more and more confused with Desmond’s strange remarks. 

“Yeah, what did we discuss?” Randall asked. 

Desmond merely shook his head in disappointment. “You, my dear brother, will resume your talk this instant. A gentleman doesn’t cut a conversation with a lady short!” 

“W-What are you talking about?” “You’re supposed to spend time with Claire right now!” “B-But—“

“Hey, that’s no fair,” Randall interrupted, “Hershel and I need to have our fencing match this afternoon!” 

“Heavens, Ascot,” by this time, Desmond spit out his question through gritted teeth, “Are you in on this plan or not?” 

“Plan...?” Hershel followed their conversation, looking from one student to the other like the audience for a game of tennis. “What on earth are you two on about?” 

“But— the semi finals for the competition are in three weeks! I can’t possibly skip practice today!” 

“There is no need for you to do so,” Hershel interjected, “I’m here, am I not? Oi!” 

“Oh for heaven’s sake!” In the blink of an eye, Desmond had grabbed Hershel’s bag that he loosely carried over his shoulder. He fought back for a second, nevertheless, Desmond successfully snatched the fencing gear from his brother. “I’ll face off against you, Randall.” 

Both parties fell silent upon Desmond’s unexpected exclamation. 

“And you,” he huffed and pointed at Hershel, “You better hurry back inside.” 

“But Des— you don’t fit my suit—“ “ _ Go _ !” “A-Alright, I’m going!” 

Hershel didn’t protest any longer. Nevertheless, as he hurriedly moved away from them, he risked a glance over his shoulder. The look on his face left no doubt that he was still trying to understand what on earth just happened. 

As was Desmond. 

Silence had fallen over the scene. They stood back, motionless, watching Hershel sprint over the lawn. Slowly but surely, realisation hit him. With deep set horror, Desmond noticed he had just traded his afternoon in the library for a fencing match against  _ Randall Ascot _ . 

“So... uh.” Randall looked at him, still struck with disbelief. “Should we get going, or—“ 

For a split second, he contemplated simply dropping Hershel’s sports bag and sprinting for the library without turning back. 

“I suppose I’ve run out of other options,” he replied instead, defeated. “Well then. The gymnasium is that way, is it not?” 

Randall’s face lit up. His lips formed a silent cry of joy before he nodded eccentrically. They kept walking for a few meters until he found his voice again. When he did, it was hardly more than an excited screech. 

“I can’t believe it.” Somehow, Desmond felt like he had heard those exact words with the exact same emphasis not too long ago. Whether that was to his liking, he still had to figure out. Randall didn’t grant him much time alone with his thoughts, either way. 

“I just can’t believe you’re hanging out with me! A fencing match, no less...” “Keep it down, Randall. I’m only doing this for Hershel. Besides...” Desmond couldn’t help but smirk. “If I were you, I wouldn’t celebrate too soon. I was at the top of my league back in the day...” 

That wasn’t a lie. Not fully, at least - to be fair, he hadn’t picked up an épée in some time. What was fully true however, was that he couldn’t possibly fathom losing a match against Randall. He was a sore loser anyway - though of course he would never publicly admit to that - and to lose against his younger brother’s best friend of all people? Certainly not! 

Now that his indefatigable ambition got a grip of his dire situation, backing out was out of consideration. He would take on this match, and he would take on it with all his pride and skill. This was about more than just an innocuous practice match, after all. 

Randall was quick to affirm his speculation. 

“You know, Desmond~...” His voice dripped with sweet malicious innocence. “When Hershel and I face off, there usually is... a stake.” He carefully studied Desmond’s reaction, who did his best not to make it easy for him to read anything into the subtle twitch of the corner of his mouth. “Which would be...?” 

“The loser,” he grinned, “Owes the winner a favor.” 

They had reached the entrance to the campus gym. The door was wedged open to welcome any and all curious students. Far away, from beneath the dressing rooms, one noticed the distant grunting and screaming of fellow students who valued their athletic career. 

It had been some time since Desmond payed these hallways a visit. 

“That is all?” He asked.

“That is all.” 

Well. There was no turning back now. 

“Then so be it.” Randall beamed. Even Desmond’s following snarky comment didn’t take a toll on his enthusiasm - much to the contrary. 

“I will not let you win, anyway, Ascot.” “Oh, we’ll see about that.” 

...

Randall was right - they  _ would _ see about that. 

While he was in the dressers, desperately trying to put on his brother’s fencing suit (Hershel was right, it didn’t fit him - or, alternatively: Hershel was too short), Desmond had plenty of time to contemplate what he would ask of Randall, should he win - which he was sure he would. 

Few seconds into the game, he suddenly wasn’t so sure anymore. 

To put it short (and less humiliating) - there was a reason Randall and Hershel were contesters for the championship. 

He moved with force and elegance at the same time, his cunning wit in perfect synch with his deft motions. His épée acted as a natural part of his body, while Desmond’s felt almost foreign in his own hand. In comparison to Randall, his movements were clumsy, like those of a novice. Still, the fight didn’t frustrate him. Although he was clearly losing - the épée brushed his chest plate again just now - it was a delight to bear witness to his opponent’s expertise. The way Randall’s feet hurried over the mats resembled a complicated choreography only mastered by the most skilled dancers. 

Desmond was so focused on admiring Randall’s swift motions that he didn’t realize he had lost, at first. Randall’s movements stopped, his épée piercing his chest. 

“I’ve won.” With another sweeping gesture, he rid himself of his mask, bearing a triumphant smile. 

Desmond did the same. At least he could still blame his failure on the misfitting suit… “Well, then I reckon it’s my turn to congratulate you. That was a fair match, Ra—“ 

“So, you’ll proof-read my paper.” 

His face fell. “Excuse me?” 

“My assignment for geology class!” 

“I don’t know who or what gave you the idea that I am willing to do such a thing.” 

Randall got up and stepped back. “Oh, I’m not giving you a choice. You lost the match. I get a favor.” He extended his épée from his face and bowed down. 

“Ah— Curses.” Couldn’t argue with that. The rules had been established prior to the match. Which didn’t stop Desmond from trying to evade his sentence, however. “I hardly have enough time to take care of my own class work. It didn’t help much that your little practice lesson robbed me of time spent in the library.” 

“ _ My little practice lesson _ ?” Randall frowned. “That’s not fair. It was you who suggested this match in the first place. Even more so, you agreed to the conditions I established beforehand. And I would even go as far as to assume you had at least a little fun - if you even know how to, that is.“ He added softly. Before Desmond could argue, he continued. 

“Please help me with my assignment. I know you don’t care about me, but I’m failing geology and you are a much better archaeologist than I’ll ever be. I’m out of town visiting my parents this weekend so you have all week to take care of it, too. So — please?” 

“Fine, fine,” Desmond fixated the tip of his épée, “I’ll proof-read it.” 

During Randall’s monologue, a guilty hunch had been forming in his stomach. Perhaps he had been too harsh on him. There was no way he would admit that, though - not yet, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hii everyone!! another spicy chapter for you <3   
> this time, i changed up the dialogue formatting a bit so now it hopefully aligns with the English standard. it’s not much different but anyway-   
> thank you again to the layton brainrot group for fuelling my need for no angst canon content <3 I hope you liked this chapter!! ill do my best to keep updating frequently, between my other wips and the looming start of the semester,,, see u then!!


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